Eclipse
by Scribble01
Summary: When the sun exploded and erased the Mist, people panicked and the gods disappeared. Twenty years later and Percy Jackson is still trying to survive, working as a mercenary and generally being a pain in the ass for the militias that have taken over most of the U.S. When he takes a simple transport job, he may just realize that the gods aren't as gone as he thought.


She sat in the passenger seat next to him, silently slurping on a frozen drink they used to have at convenience stores. She wore cracked round glasses, a silver parka she'd found in the woods, jeans, and a My Little Pony T-shirt. Rainbow Sparkle was faded and torn but thankfully not the stitching. That was her last shirt.

The girl didn't seem to notice the blood that pooled from the wound in his side, the bullet already pulled out. They'd have to stop soon; his water bottle was empty despite only having it used once that day.

His shaggy black hair was matted with sweat and blood, none of it his. His green eyes were glowing and swirling for the first time in nearly twenty years, and it was because of the girl sitting next to him. Despite his reservations, he'd let her in and she made him better. Gave him something to fight for.

"Percy?"

He turned at the sound of his name, careful to glance at the road every few seconds as he spoke.

"Yeah? What's wrong?" Even now, he still checked to see if she was okay first. The woodlands that were all around them passed them by, leaving blurs of color. Buildings in the distance were growing and the ones in the rear view mirror were growing distant. They had some space. None of them would be looking for her so close to the last attack. Especially now.

"Thanks," the twelve year old told him. He looked at her in the eyes. The dark ones that shouldn't seem to fit on her pale complexion but somehow did. Her ivory skin paler than before and her eyes darker than before. A little red, too.

"You got nothing to thank me for," he told her as he turned away. "Not for something like that."

"But-" Percy cut her off.

"Bree." In the back of his head, he wondered what it was with him choosing girl names that start with the letter 'B'. Was it a kink? A good luck thing? But Percy was sort of grateful. He didn't think he could have gotten to her in time if she had a longer or different name. It was one syllable. Bree. Easy to yell out.

He turned towards her again, this time her eyes boring into his instead of the other way around. "I said you have nothing to thank me for," he told her. "It's what I do." He corrected himself. "It's what I used to do."

"I would have died without you," she argues. It only made Percy sigh.

"A lot of people would have, Kid," Percy retorted. "Doesn't mean they get to live with me there, either." Silence reigned in the truck before he spoke again. "Bree."

"Yeah?" She said, copying him. She knew he hated that.

"What you can do..." He hesitated. He used to be so good at this. Every other week he was telling a demigod about the Greek world that just so happened not to be myth. Now, he could barely find where to start. "It's not normal," he finally said. "But... it's not abnormal either."

"What do you mean?" She asked, a little defensive. He knew he should've thought about this before hand. Maybe it would be better if he just showed her. No, that would just get her to run away. Again.

"It means that there are other people out there, people with powers." He waited for her to say something. Anything. Other than he was crazy and that there was no one out there like her. But instead...

"Like you?" Percy nearly stomped on the brakes. What?!

"What are you talking about?" His own voice hard and defensive.

"I... saw you," she admitted. "That night when we saw that friend of yours, I saw you in the locker room showers."

Percy was silent as she looked back out the windows at the passing background. "That wasn't something for you to see," he told her, his voice low. She closed her eyes, tears threatening to pour out.

"I... I know..." She whispered. "I-I'm s-sorry."

"Don't cry," he told her. "I guess it was nothing. Not now, anyways." There was silence again. "Do you know anything about Greek mythology?"

"A little," she answered, wiping any trace of tears from her cheeks. "Zeus and them, right?"

Percy nodded. "Yes... They're real."

"You aren't fucking with me, are you?" She asked. But she knew he wasn't. Percy wasn't like that. He didn't joke, at least not since she showed him what she could do.

"No." The answer was so simple. "Your father is a god. And you're the first demigod born in the last nineteen years." He looked towards her again. "Which means that you're a target. For mortals and demigods and monsters alike."

Silence seems to be a reoccurring thing around them. "Who's my father?" She asks quietly, almost afraid of the answer. Percy, however, has no such reservations.

"Hades," he tells her. "The God of the Underworld, the Dead, and the Riches Under the Earth." Then mutters under his breath, "All hail Bree Morgan, daughter of Hades... You better give me one hell of a 'Thank You' for this Chiron."

And they continue driving in silence, reveling in the the left over light from the engorged sun, to one of the last standing cities. In a world without Mist. And gods.


End file.
